The Alpha's Blind Fate
Chapter 181: What Is Your Ambition?

Chapter 181: What Is Your Ambition?

ZINA

Zina reentered back to Daemon’s office, although this time, she was alone. Marcus had left her to stew in the intended meaning of his words. Surely the man didn’t mean to become a double Beta?

What makes you think I won’t be participating myself?

Zina shrugged the words off, focusing on the things that were actually her problem. At least she had managed to get Fionna into the tournament, the next thing was now to guess the modalities of the tournament. She didn’t imagine it would be easy, but she was willing to bet that it would be very surprising.

The capital was already teeming with men and women from all spheres of life. The tournament was well talked about in the whole of Vraga alright, and in the middle of it all, more notorious than the tournament itself was the amount of defection and pack denouncement that had happened since then.

From the lowest omega to the highest Alpha of the Pack, many dreamed of becoming even just an enforcer for the biggest Pack and Kingdom in the whole of Vraga. And in that dream, they were more than willing to abandon and denounce their Packs in the hope that they would become part of the four chosen.

A dangerous gamble considering that thousands seemed to be vying for the position? Sure. But did that deter them? Far from it.

So thousands streamed into the capital, registering their names with hope embellished eyes. Zina had watched it all happen in the three weeks that Daemon had been absent. She thought the scene was truly mighty; men and women from all areas of life diving head first into the unknown for the ultimate chance to become one of Daemon’s.

Zina produced a handkerchief from her dress, walking towards Daemon who sat on his office chair, pretending to be immersed in whatever book that was before him.

She sat on the table directly from him, while his eyes widened from mild surprise finally took her in.

Zina took his hand and placed it on her lap. The roughness of it reminded her of just how soft and delicate she was in contrast. Daemon could easily physically squash her as he did Yaren, and yet, she was not afraid of the man.

As she had expected, his knuckles were bruised. Half of the blood on Yaren’s face probably belonged to him. And Daemon, sentimental person he was, had not even bothered to heal himself.

"Why hurt him and hurt yourself at the same time." She mused, tying the wound with the handkerchief.

Eyes shining with amusement, he spoke. "Who said I am hurt... it’s just a scratch."

"A scratch that you won’t heal." Zina accused, and to his credit, he didn’t respond to the accusation. Instead, he veered completely out of topic.

"I never knew you and Marcus were this close."

Zina donned a dumb expression. "Marcus? Who is that?"

Daemon’s lips curved into a smile that he seemed to want to hold back while amusement was shining ever brighter in his dark eyes.

Zina pretended as if she remembered who he was speaking of. "Ahhh... you mean Beta DireWolf."

"Nice try Zina WolfKnight."

Zina stilled, the sound of her surname on Daemon’s lips foreign to her. His bruised hand was still on her lap, almost scorching her with the heat it produced. But the words he spoke were like cold water dousing her in a bathtub

"I see your reservation of the WolfKnights still shines ever brightly." He said casually as if he had slipped with the words, but in the small time that Zina had spent with Daemon, she knew that the man was studying her reaction intently.

She smiled naturally, wondering if she had let her blatant hatred for the WolfKnights slip. Especially her peculiar hatred for the Beta of the Pack, Igar.

"The WolfKnights will stay to observe the tournament." Daemon announced, while Zina tied the last knot to the handkerchief.

"And so will a hundred other Packs." She added like it meant nothing. She moved to remove his bruised hand, but he clutched her thighs instead, drawing her closer to him.

Zina giggled while the space between them was eliminated. Sensing that the atmosphere between the both of them was getting more serious than she would have liked, she resumed her former line of questioning.

"Why did you both fight?"

Something guarded appeared in his eyes, and he seemed to hesitate before he finally answered. "Yaren has his reservations about you."

"Oh."

Zina wished she didn’t ask. She had suspected as much, but she didn’t want to think herself to be of such importance that she would drive a wedge between two brothers that shared a bond she could only envy.

His free hand clutched one of hers, and he stared intently into her eyes. "That is not why we fought of course, just the lead up to it."

Zina attempted to smile in a bid to act like it didn’t matter, but her lips stayed rooted like a stiff unmoving rock.

"Why did you fight then?" She managed to ask again in a small voice.

Daemon hesitated again, his eyes taking a distance to them. Finally he answered, speaking in a soft voice that was so unlike him."Yaren must become the Beta of the NorthSteed Pack. He’s been... antsy of late. I had to knock some sense into him one way or the other."

Must.

Zina couldn’t imagine the kind of pressure Yaren would be facing soon. But if she were to look at it another way, it was Daemon who had made the most sacrifice; openly going against the Four Houses just so his half-brother would have a chance to stand with him.

Zina smiled tightly even though her stomach clenched very uncomfortably. The conversation she had with Yaren kept on repeating in her head though .

What could you possibly offer him and his ambitions?

"What is your ambition?" Zina asked abruptly, the question eliciting an expression of surprise and confusion from him.

"My ambition?"

Zina wanted to hold her hand over her palpitating heart, but between Daemon’s hands that was holding one of hers, and his other that gripped her thighs, she was glued in place.

Honestly, it was so hard to hide her true intentions away from him. Not when those intelligent eyes were always observing and taking her in.

"I am just curious." She answered, shrugging like it didn’t mean much to her.

"My ambition is...."

Zina held her breath, anticipating his answer. Maybe if she knew what he yearned for, only then would she know how she would be useful to him.

He grinned, "my ambition is to be your husband."

Her breath stuttered, and a flood of elation and disappointment filled her.

How could one feel two conflicting emotions at the same time?

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